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My murderer killed me a year ago. I’m now alive and I’m in shock on what just happened.
I woke up, cramped in a dark, confined space. I felt cramps surge throughout my entire body, feeling as i’d been laying in the same position forever. I screamed and clawed at the ceiling, scratching and picking until my fingernails bled and broke off. I used my feet and hands to kick at the wood, all the while knowing there’s no use. who the hell put me here? How did I get here? I thought with rage and frustration. I decided to pound the wood one more time, and use my legs to kick and push the hardest I could ever do. I stomped, banging my sore and mangled feet against the wood, until the final blow managed to completely break through the wood, and I was too pumped with adrenaline to acknowledge the pain running through my foot. I looked up through the wood and saw darkness. I knew I couldn’t be outside. It was too musty and damp to be out in fresh air. I managed to pull myself through the wood, climbing up on top of the auburn box. I clawed my way through the muddied walls, picking worms and bugs off of me along the way. I used my fists to punch through the dirt as hard as possible, until I felt my hand break through and reach the soft grass, a cold breeze whisking through my fingers. It was the strangest feeling. I groaned as I used my head to break through the dirt, and pulled myself up onto the wet, dewy grass until I couldn’t move any longer. I lay there, soaking on the earth, feeling the wind on my face. My white dress was almost brown with dirt, and a few bugs were still crawling up my legs. I rubbed my swollen wrists, when I noticed a shiny golden bracelet. Engraved in the bracelet were the words ”I will always love you- Dustin” Dustin? Who the hell was he? I don’t know anyone. I looked to my left and noticed that there was a small rock next to the dirt I tore through. I leaned in closer to read the writing, when my heart dropped in my chest. ”Fiona Holiday, love of my life. Lasted 3 months. October 9 2018” No. That couldn’t be me. If I died, wouldn’t I remember? Then something clicked. I wasn’t in a cemetery at all. I was in someone’s backyard. There were no neighbouring houses, this one was completely isolated. I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Being dead sounded awful enough, but why was I in someone’s backyard? Was I murdered? Do my parents know what happened to me? I tried to stand up but I fell, my knees buckling beneath me. I crawled around, desperate to find something that would indicate where I was. I wondered if there were others. I reached out my hands, grabbing anything that wasn’t grass, when I came across 5 other rocks, all a couple inches away from each other. “Casey Jones, love of my life. Lasted 7 months. February 2 2017” “Vanessa Walters, love of my life. Lasted 3 weeks. July 7 2016” “Delilah Woods, love of my life. Lasted 2 days. August 15th 2016” “Hannah Gomez, love of my life. Lasted 1 year. November 22 2015” “Jessica Hanson, love of my life. Lasted 7 years. April 12 2012” I covered my mouth and scooted back. This had to be a nightmare, or some kind of prank. Surely there’s not 5 other women... buried here. The only way to find out is to dig. I cringed and carefully crept back toward one of the rocks. Casey Jones, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep. I began to claw at the dirt, until I reached a smooth and cold surface. It wasn’t wood. There was no coffin. I grabbed at the object and pulled it up toward me, digging my bloodied nails into the soft, cold rubber. Until I realised that I had grabbed a hand. I screamed and dropped the hand, peering down into the hole. A half skeleton / half human lay there, in a floral blouse and shorts. A golden bracelet on her right wrist, saying ”To the love of my life- Dustin” I felt sick, so I turned over to the patch of grass next to me and puked my brains out. I gently grabbed some little flowers growing in the grass and laid them on her chest. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. I scooped the dirt back over her corpse and padded it until it was firm. I laid the rock above her. Now, my next move would be to run. The backyard was chained up, there was no way I could leave. I couldn’t climb very high. I decided to try prying open the backyard door. I know, stupid, but maybe I could convince Dustin he’s dreaming. Much to my luck, the door was unlocked. I slowly slid it open and forced myself to stand up, and shakily tiptoed through the kitchen, when something caught my eye. There were missing posters everywhere, all over his fridge. I crept toward the fridge and nearly fainted at the sight. All the girls, with their alive, smiling faces plastered on missing posters. I saw myself. HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Fiona Elizabeth Holiday DOB: July 1, 2003 Age: 15 Last Seen: Wearing a white dress and red sandals, on July 2cd, 2018 in (Redacted) CA. Description: Green eyes, long blonde hair Height and weight: 5’3 and approximately 110 lbs I shakily grabbed the poster, and tore it to shreds. It suddenly dawned on me that I never found out how I died. I frantically looked around the room, until I spotted a video camera propped up on a shelf. I managed to snag it off the shelf and open it up. My eyes were exposed to the most horrific and vile videos I’ve ever seen. He labelled each video: Casey’s Catastrophe | Delilah’s Demise | Vanessa’s Vendetta| Jessica’s Jealousy | Hannah’s Hysteria | And mine. Fiona’s Fatality They were homemade snuff films. There I was, drugged up and tied to a chair. ”What did I do?” I cried in the video. ”I’m sorry my love, but I can’t trust you anymore. You’ve tried to run away multiple times, and you blew every last chance,” he cooed. His voice sent shivers down my spine in a way I can’t even explain. I don’t even want to explain what he did to me. I was stabbed. Multiple times in the chest. And then he broke my neck. I puked a little in my mouth and quickly turned the camera off. I slowly lifted up my dress and ran my fingers along my stomach and chest. Large, bumpy scars lined across my torso. I shuddered. The sound of footsteps thumping down the stairs made me jump. I stood, frozen with fear. ”Who is it?” A gruff man’s voice called out. He ran into the kitchen, baseball bat in hand, turning around and laying his eyes on me. ”Miss me, Dustin?” I whispered. ”F-Fiona? No. You’re dead. Who the fuck are you?” He cried. ” I thought I was the love of your life, Dustin. Why did you have to kill me?” I mocked. He just stared. ”No, this isn’t happening. I’m not having this conversation. I’m dreaming.” I slowly walked toward him. He clutched the bat tighter. He whimpered. ”Shhhh,” I cooed. I put my hand on his. ”Let me just say one thing before you wake up,” I said. He slowly nodded his head. I leaned in closer. ”It’s your turn” I yanked the metal bat from his trembling hands and began to smash it into his head, bashing his skull in, blood spraying everywhere. He withered to the ground and I continued to smash until I physically couldn’t any longer. I dropped the bat to the floor, grabbed the video camera, and all of the missing posters, and bolted out of the house. It was dark, and I had nowhere to go. I was on top of a hill. I turned back and glanced at the house one last time, before running off and trying to locate the nearest police station. If I told them what really happened, they’d call me crazy and brush me off, or worse, send me off to a science lab to experiment on me. I concocted an elaborate and gory, but very believable and accurate story. All I had was my strength and my evidence. And maybe, I thought, I’ll find my family again. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta